


Go on and tear me apart

by kittenmichael



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety Disorder, M/M, and taking it out on luke, sad!Luke, the muke is kinda platonic btw, this is just me being sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 15:09:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3614469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenmichael/pseuds/kittenmichael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke is taking the bus home. Without his phone, he has nothing to distract him from his anxiety. Sometimes, help comes from unexpected places.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Go on and tear me apart

**Author's Note:**

> there's something sadder coming, but i still need to change the ending a little

Luke’s phone had just died.

He was outside his school, ready for his daily 30 minute bus ride, and his _phone_ was _dead._ Surely, that was more than a stupid first world problem. At least, that’s what it felt like to Luke.

His phone was something he could hold onto, a lifeline amidst the crowd of rowdy teenagers. But now his lifeline had failed him (damn you, Apple, and your shitty batteries) and he was about to get thrown into the deep end without anything to help him.

He awkwardly dug his hands into the pockets of his coat. He knew he should have bought a different coat; A smaller one. One that didn’t make him look like a balloon.

Luke saw the bus and hurried forward to the spot where the bus should stop. After taking the bus every day for the whole term, he was used to the way people pushed and shoved. In fact, he did it himself. Etiquette of the bus: pushing and shoving is the only way to get yourself a decent seat.

So Luke went along with it, ignoring the feeling of someone’s backpack pushing against his. He flashed the bus driver his card along with a tentative smile. He didn’t want look like an asshole, but he didn’t want to be _that_ kid either. Not again.

He found himself a nice little spot and sat down, throwing his bag beside him, so he was occupying two seats. Once again: the etiquette of the bus. They were doing another two bus stops where students get on instead of off and no one ever cleared the space next to them unless asked to.

With that covered, Luke gazed outside, annoyed by the fact that there was no Fall Out Boy blasting in his ear. Behind him, he could hear some familiar voices, those of some friends from school who were taking a seat as well. Though Luke had no interest in talking to them, he still felt a pang in his chest. What if they thought it was weird that he never sat with them? What if the other people on the bus didn’t realise that he _chose_ to sit alone, and that he really _did_ have friends. Luke didn’t particularly enjoy riding the bus without headphones on.

The bus came to a stop, its doors opening for yet another group of teenagers. They filed in one by one, heading to the back of the bus where Luke was sitting and picking someone to sit next to. Luke didn’t know what to best thing to do was. Was he supposed to look at them? Not look at them? Gaze out of the window? In the end, he never found out. No one sat next to him.

Luke felt his hands start to tremble.

See, there was this theory, founded by scientific research and all that, that proved that people could pick out the bullied kid. As if it was something that was written on their forehead. _Pick on me. I’m an easy victim._ Since he was in high school, he was no longer the bullied kid. Not since Ashton, not since the band.

But why didn’t people ever sit next to him? What if it had a snowball effect? What if people didn’t sit next to him _because_ no one ever sat next to him?

By now, Luke was heaving. He’d brought this upon himself, really. His fingers were moist with sweat, clenched into fists on his lap. If he didn’t do that, they’d shake uncontrollably and he didn’t want to risk anyone seeing. The air got stuck in his lungs, breathed in and out by the same vile teenagers too many times and it just felt _dry_ in Luke’s throat, sending coughs out of his mouth. He bit his lip, trying to stifle them, because the least he needed was to draw _even_ _more_ attention to himself. Luke felt the blood rush to his hands, his face a spooky kind of pale. Luke was having an anxiety attack. His chest clenched heavily. His intestines twisted in a way that made him consider pressing the alarm button.

No use in that, they had already arrived at their next stop. Luke wanted to clench his eyes shut and curl up into a ball, but that wasn’t an option. He was still in public and he was still trying very hard not to be the weird kid. So he focused on the people getting in instead, seeing as looking away hadn’t worked. Luke wanted someone to sit next to him, but he _didn’t,_ because what if they smelled his _sweat_?

He was about to let his gaze flee to the window once again, when a familiar face and voice startled the last bit of air out of his lungs. Luke was going to pass out.

“Luke?” He flinched and bit his lip, preparing for the blow, because this was _Michael’s_ voice and _sure_ , they were in a band now together, but Calum wasn’t here to keep the peace. Ashton, his usual protector, was off somewhere, and what if that was enough of an excuse to turn Michael back into the bully he was in year 8?

“Yeah?” Luke squeaked, and he sounded like the _freak_ everyone on that goddamned bus _knew_ he was. Tears were on the brink of rolling down his cheeks, and he couldn’t just _do this_ in public.

“Are you alright?” The punch never came, leaving Luke hit by a wave of confusion, and the whole bus was still spinning. He nodded his head, only fucking up his vision ever more. Now all blood had left his face, his lungs painfully void of any air. His lips tasted like iron. Something all too familiar for his liking.

“Fuck,” Michael cursed, and Luke felt the need to get off this bus. He saw Michael twice and _kept_ hearing his voice over and over again. Luke felt so fucking stupid. “Guys,” Michael turned around to face his friends, who were still waiting behind him to get a seat. “You go ahead. I’ll sit with Luke.”

And _fuck_ , as if that made things better. Luke tried to grab his backpack, _anything_ to get rid of that tension in his body, but Michael was putting it on the floor, so he could take a seat. His knees touched Luke’s when he did so, and Luke felt something like _electricity or fire_ or something equally _painful_ run up his leg.

“Luke, come on,” Michael whispered, his hand reaching out for Luke’s. “This is happening, isn’t?” He said, as he inspected the trembling of his fingers. “Fuck, this is happening.”

His band knew about his anxiety. He had had no choice but to tell them about it after he once broke down in front of them, leading to a shitload of questions that did nothing to calm him down. Since then, Ashton had grown closer to Luke, turning into his very own superhero. Protector of Luke, warrior of calmness, fighter of anxiety attacks. He was the one who was usually near when something happened, always no further than a phone call away. But hey, first world problems.

So _yes_ , Michael knew what was happening. He knew what _this_ was. They’d gone over the signs. Luke just wondered if he knew that he was the one who gave him that disorder in the first place.

“What happened?” Michael asked, his eyes incredibly close. They reminded him of Ashton’s, except for the fact that they were way greener, and they were swimming in panic. “No, shit, that’s not the correct order. Fuck, I wish I was as good at this as Ash,” Michael mumbled under his breath.

“You should calm down first, right?”

Luke would have nodded, but if he had, then he’d have lost it. The black spots would have taken over and he’d be the first boy to pass out on public transport. He tried to ignore the clenching in his chest where his lungs were begging for air, pained by the way he was trying to hide his gasps, trying to look _normal._

“Fuck, Luke, you’re fucking passing out. Oh my god.” Michael closed his eyes for a moment, before snapping them back open. “Alright, I’ve got this.” And then a little pause. “I think.”

His movements were slow, too slow for Luke’s oxygen-deprived body, but it was something. First, he grabbed Luke’s hand in his, entwining their fingers and resting them on his lap. Then he shifted a little so Luke was pressed up against him, Luke’s head resting against his shoulder.

“Music?” Michael tried, probably having noticed that Luke wasn’t using his phone. He pulled out his own, along with a pair of earphones, and gave one to Luke. “Here, you can pick the songs.”

Sure, it was a big honour if Michael let you pick, but _fuck._ He squeezed Michael’s shoulder with all the strength he still had left, tears now spilling down his cheeks.

“Not in the mood for that, I see.”

Finally, Michael seemed to shoot out of his daze.

“Breathing! Yes, fuck. That’s what Ashton always does.”

His hand snaked around Luke’s shoulder, pressing the boy even closer. With his lips only a inches away from his ear, he started whispering softly.

‘In, and out, and in, and out.”

Luke just kept squeezing and squeezing and squeezing and then the room stopped spinning. Although the edges were still slightly hazy, his eyes still burning with tears, he could see properly now. His lungs had stopped tormenting him, satisfied with the amount of air they got. Michael put an earphone in Luke’s ear after gently brushing the tears away. Ed Sheeran softly started singing in Luke’s ear, and Luke just _knew_ Michael hadn’t put those songs on his phone for himself. He’d come prepared.

Luke’s eyes started feeling heavy. Sleeping on public transport was a big no for him, because what if he missed his stop? What if he snored? What if someone snapped a picture? What if he looked stupid? But his eyelids were slowly falling shut, his body safe and warm enveloped by Michael, and Michael had started whispering again.

“I’m sorry. _I’m so, so sorry_.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> if you comment, you'll make me very happy :)


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